


A Chance Encounter

by eattawrites



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Death, Dehumanization, Domestic Violence, F/F, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Possessive Behavior, Tags May Change, Threats of Violence, Unhealthy Relationships, Violence, this really is a wild ride so far sorry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-03-12
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:40:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23114080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eattawrites/pseuds/eattawrites
Summary: On her journey across Pandora in the search for answers, a young wanderer must make an unexpected supply stop in the dreaded town of Lynchwood. Despite all her carefulness and detailed plans leading up to this, everything manages to go wrong. Can the mysterious traveler make it out alive, or will she end up another kicker in the breeze?
Relationships: Nisha (Borderlands)/Original Character(s)
Kudos: 1





	1. In and Out

**Author's Note:**

> This will most likely not be a happy story, and will deal with dark subject matter as the story unfolds. Some content in this work may be unsuitable for some readers, and should take note of the tags before reading any material.

As much as she hated it, there was no way around it. She'd have to stop into Lynchwood if she'd wanted supplies, and the rumors she'd heard of that place... A chill danced down her spine just thinking about it, and the young woman wrapped her cloak around herself even tighter as she boarded the rickety old Hyperion train.  
  
It would be a quick job. Go into town, buy what was needed, get the hell out of there. Don't talk to anyone, don't look at anyone, just get what’s needed and scram. In and out. It would be that simple. In and out. In and out. In and out. In and out. In. Out.  
  
The young woman was pulled from her thoughts as the train stopped and she was informed by the strained female voice she'd arrived at her destination. With a shaky exhale she tied her cloak tighter and stepped off, making her form seem as small and insignificant as possible. The hood did a wonderful job of concealing her face from the crowd, and she was thankful for it as she roamed the barren cityscape. The air was dry and burned her lungs as she walked as fast as she could to the nearest store in business, taking the least populated route she could. In and out. In and out. In and out. In and out.  
  
Silently she creaked the store's door open and slipped inside, just as quietly closing the door as she peered around. The worker hadn't even noticed her entry, too busy polishing his Jakobs to notice her. Perfect. In and out, easy peasy.  
  
With shaky hands she withdrew her echo from her cloak and opened her little shopping list, wandering around the back of the store to find everything she needed. Her list was much longer and more complicated than she remembered, making her puff her shoulders in annoyance.  
  
Easily she made her way down the list, and just as she was grabbing the last of her items the quiet little store's door was slammed open, making the worker drop his finely polished gun and the cloaked woman to freeze where she stood. Her breathing stopped as she strained her ears to listen, barely catching the worker's fearful whimpering over the sound of heeled boots on hard wood.  
  
"'Nother slow day, Jeremiah?" The cruelty of the voice made the lone wanderer want to shrink in on herself, instinctively backing away.  
  
The oblivious worker, Jeremiah she presumed, swallowed thickly, nervously tapping where his gun had been lying. "Yes ma'am, not a single customer all day!" His fearful, shuddering voice made the wanderer feel the slightest bit of empathy for him, clutching her items closer to her chest as she listened in from a distance.  
  
"What a shame, Jeremiah," the voice drawled, the sound of boots against wood reappearing. "If this keeps up, you'll be in debt and out of business." Although she couldn't see them, the girl was certain the cruel person was smiling like a shark, and the very tone of voice alone was almost enough to send her running out the shop. Still, she held her ground, stifling the urge to run and shaking like a leaf beneath her cloak.  
  
Jeremiah laughed nervously. "O-Oh, you know how it is! It’s a-always slow this time of year!" His pained voice made her curl in a little tighter on herself, biting her lip hard enough she could have drawn blood.  
  
"Well, you'd better hope that's all this is, Jer." The cocking of a pistol almost made the woman drop her items, knees locking up as she shut her eyes tight.  
  
"W-Wait! Wait! I-I promise it'll get better, Sheriff! Honest!" The begging of his life and the sound of the voice's title was enough to force movement out of the female wanderer, taking several uncalculated steps backwards to get even farther away.  
  
Before the sheriff or Jeremiah could say anything the shattering of glass scared all three people in the building, the traveler snapping her head down and seeing the immense amount of booze she'd knocked over in her attempt to get away from the scene. When she snapped her head back up, she heard those heeled boots again, their rhythm purposeful as the sound drew nearer and nearer.  
  
Without thought she dumped all her items on the ground and rushed to a different part of the store, squeezing her petite frame and cloak between two massive boxes of produce. She clamped a hand over her mouth and listened, eyes shut tight as she once again strained her ears to hear.  
  
The rhythmic clacking of boots against wood stopped and she heard a melodic, almost alluring, hum of thought from where she once was, too frightened to chance a look at the scene. With bated breath she waited, and just when she thought she couldn't wait any more the clacking started up again. Closer and closer the noise drew, and every time the noise was made her heartbeat grew faster and harder. Her eyes shut even tighter as she heard it, trying her best not to go into a full-blown panic as she listened.  
  
The clacking stopped right outside the two boxes she was hiding between, and again she heard that heavenly humming. After several minutes of silence, the clacking departed, and she heard the shop door open and close.  
  
She stayed in that position for several more minutes, pressed against the wall with her eyes shut tight and barely breathing between the produce. Once she was sure she was finally safe from her biggest fear in the ill rumored town she opened her eyes and went to step out.  
  
As soon as she squeezed between the two boxes and stood up an iron like grip grabbed her body and she opened her mouth in a silent scream, snapping her head in the hand's direction to see what it was. The first thing she noticed was pink painted lips curled into a cruel smile like that of a predator finally catching its prey and her heart stopped, hands going clammy as she lost all feeling in her body. The next thing she noticed was intoxicating golden eyes, making it near impossible for the traveler to look away. With some brute force she did, eyes traveling down until they landed on a bright, shiny gold star pinned to the woman's chest. Her face grew pale as she read the engraving, feeling her stomach drop.  
  
"Well, well, well, look what I've got here," the sheriff said, her tone low, teasing, and impossibly slow paced. "You're not from my little town, are you honeysuckle?"  
  
The sheriff's almost sultry voice made the girl's panic spike, and she tried fruitlessly to rip her arm free and escape. The grip on her arm tightened and she hissed in pain, freezing in fear again.  
  
"Now, now, doll face, that's not how you're supposed to answer my questions. And what are you doing, stranger, sneaking around a goods store like this? Why, you're not a little thief, are you?" The sheriff drew her closer to her body, their faces so close they were almost touching noses. Quickly, she shook her head no, hoping it would make the woman relent in her tight grip. It didn't.  
  
"That's better, but..." The Sheriff of Lynchwood brought her free hand up and the wanderer shut her eyes tight, body going stiff as she braced herself for the worst.  
  
The pain never came as she felt a rush of air blow past her whole body, and with a silent gasp she snapped her eyes open. Her cloak was dropped to the dusty old wood and the woman was left fully visible before the sheriff, the law officer's ravenous eyes taking in her form.  
  
"My, my, aren't you just a lovely little thing, and so _**rare**_ too. Tell me, sweet pea, what's something like you doing in my town?" Her mouth opened and closed several times, but no matter how hard she tried the traveler couldn't find an answer to voice.  
  
The sheriff just smirked and grabbed the outsider even tighter, heading towards the door. "You're interesting, darling. I think I'll keep you around a little longer."


	2. The Interrogation

The sheriff dragged the girl all the way through Lynchwood, the bandit ruffians watching silently as they made space for the two. Some looked on in pity, some looked on in awe, and others, well, they couldn't even stomach to look. The girl wasn’t sure what was worse, the fact these people could only watch, or the fact she didn't fight back.  
  
Eventually she was brought to what was arguably the nicest building in the entire town, and at the sound of the door slamming shut the entire place went completely quiet. With a harsh swallow the wanderer looked up from where she'd had her head tucked into her chest, noticing all eyes on her. All the attention she got, from just her existence or being dragged by the sheriff she wasn’t sure, but whatever it was it was enough to relight the fire of fight in her.  
  
Gritting her teeth, she yanked her arm _**hard**_ against the sheriff, baring her metaphorical fangs as she fought to free herself. The law bringer snapped her body towards the girl and bared her own teeth, grip growing tighter on the girl's fragile arm. She hissed and kicked her leg out, trying to knock her captor off balance so she could escape. All she got in return was an animalistic snarl and her front pushed up against a hard wall, being forcibly pinned with her arms painfully wretched behind her back.  
  
"I never would've thought my dolly would fight back," the sheriff purred, pressing her body flush against the traveler's back. Her breath was hot against the girl's ear and she shivered, making the sheriff push against her _**harder.**_ "I can do this all day, baby doll."  
  
With a silent whimper the female wanderer went limp, thankful that the sheriff let up on the pressure she was forcing on her back and arms. The relief was short lived, however, when she felt the cold sting of metal against her wrists, and with a quick jerk of her hands she unfortunately realized the sheriff had handcuffed her.  
  
"Sorry honeypie, but it’s for your own good. You could've hurt yourself." The law enforcer punctuated her sentence by grabbing a fistful of the girl's short hair and snapping her head back hard, pulling her away from the wall and shoving her onto the floor.  
  
"Aw, I think I almost prefer you like this, baby cakes." The sheriff sneered as she hauled the girl up by her upper arm, dragging her down the halls and into a quiet, dimly lit room. The traveler kept her head down as they went, tucking her chin into her chest and willing herself to just disappear.  
  
The sound of a timid voice almost convinced her into looking up, but the newfound fear of the sheriff kept her body frozen as it was. "Miss Kadam? Who is this?"  
  
"A pet, Winger." She saw movement out of the corner of her eyes, but she paid it no mind, instead trying to pretend she wasn't here.  
  
"That's a person, Nisha! And not just any person, a fucking-!" Winger's statement was cut short by a loud bang, making the girl snap her head up to see what had just happened before her.  
  
Red stained her face and front as she looked on in horror, watching more crimson pool around the crumpled form of a fat older man. Her jaw was slack and eyes wide, bile rising in her throat at the sight. Despite how horrible it was she couldn't look away, not even when those bruise inflicting, well-manicured hands found their new home on her shoulders.  
  
"I'll have one of the other boys take care of that, honey buns. Now, let’s talk business." Gentler than she'd ever treated her, the sheriff - Nisha, she thinks that's what the dead man said - guided her to a tiny little wooden chair in front of a rather imposing desk, and with a soft 'click' her handcuffs were securely connected. There would be no escaping the sheriff tonight, it would seem.  
  
Languidly Nisha strolled around the desk and sat down, tipping her wide brimmed hat to the side to better get a look at her new toy. The girl shifted uncomfortably, looking around to find something in the office to focus on that _**wasn't**_ the sheriff. All she could manage to focus on was the body, and her shoulders gently shook as she tried not to break.  
  
"You need to forget about him, doll, he's nobody now." Nisha stood and reached across the desk to cup the girl's cheek, turning her head to look at her. "Focus on me instead, baby. It'll keep you _alive."_  
  
The traveler swallowed thickly and gave a small nod, taking in the woman's features a little less fearful than before. Still, her eyes were constantly drawn to the perfectly painted pink lips, and whenever she broke her trance from them, she would be sucked into the warm honey irises instead.  
  
"That's better," she cooed, caressing her cheek before dipping her hand down to the girl's neck. Her entire body froze, and she stopped breathing, making the sheriff laugh. "I'm not my boyfriend, dolly. I won't choke you to death with my hands." Gently, Nisha traced the pale patterns along the exposed skin of the wanderer's neck, biting her bottom lip as a grin fought its way across her face.  
  
"Such a quiet little thing you are, birdie, why is that?" With her well-manicured hands, the sheriff grabbed the neck of the girl's shirt and pulled it down, eyes drinking in the exotic markings that continued down her body.  
  
With a sharp intake the girl opened her mouth, moving her lips for several moments but no sound came out. Had she been stupider, anger would have flashed in Nisha's eyes that the girl was playing stupid, but she couldn't help the laugh tearing its way out her lungs.  
  
"What luck! First life fucks you over by giving you _these!"_ The Sheriff scratched down her exposed arm, sharp nail following the markings. "And then on top of that it makes you a fucking mute!" She laughed so hard there were tears in her eyes, steadying herself by grabbing the girl by the collar of her shirt.  
  
Eventually, her laughter died down, and Nisha was back to giving her prey that animalistic, cruel grin as she stood back up. "I think I'll keep you here as _**mine,**_ doll. Clear out ol' Winger's office and make it a little room for you. Get you a pretty pink collar and treat you like a princess." She rounded the corner of her desk as she spoke, circling her hands around her captive’s throat and giving it a firm squeeze as she spoke about her plans.  
  
The poor woman below her began to shake with fear, her unshed tears having built up all day in this terrible town finally falling as she listened to the sheriff. Her crying grew worse as she heard Nisha’s laughter building back up behind her, shoulders heaving as she struggled to breath between her convulsing sobbing. The joke must have eventually grown old with how quick the law bringer was to tighten her hands, cutting off the traveler’s air supply.  
  
“Listen here, you pathetic _bitch,_ siren or not your _**life**_ is in my hands, and if you’d like to keep _breathing_ then you’d better quit you god damn _sobbing_ and just be a **good** little pet.” Her voice was low, dangerous, just barely above a whisper, and the longer her sentences went the _tighter_ and _**tighter**_ her hands grew around the woman’s neck, making her choke and gasp for air she couldn’t reach. All at once Nisha’s hands tightened so hard the wanderer began to fear her neck might snap as she watched black spots swim at the edge of her vision, her focus on the world around her growing hazy. “That is… Unless you want _Handsome Jack_ to find out about you. Heard he’s in the **market** for a new _bitch_ to break.”  
  
Just when she thought she couldn’t take it anymore, Nisha let up on the woman’s throat, finding sick pleasure as she watched her struggle to breath, choking on her own tears. She watched the small frame shake and twitch before her, her fingers twitching at her sides as she felt the burning sensation to do it all again. But Nisha stuffed those urges down, knowing she’d have the chance to do it all over again if she was _patient_ and _**calculated.**_  
  
“Well, princess, we got a deal or what? If not…” Those twitchy fingers retrieved the gun in her holster, cocking back the hammer and watching the pathetic creature below her stiffen up as she sobbed more, looking at Nisha over her shoulder. She tilted her gun slightly to the side, and if the fear in her eyes was anything to go by, then Nisha knew her face must be split into another one of her sinister, insane grins. She looked her newfound treasure down the barrel of her pistol, her eyes crinkling in glee as she watched the siren faulter below her. “Then I guess I’ve got no need for you.”  
  
And then she laughed, the sound starting low and quiet in her chest until it tore its way up her throat and out her mouth, filling the room around them with sound and bouncing maddeningly off the walls. Her captive had nodded yes, and just like that, the sheriff of Lynchwood was, once again, triumphant.


End file.
